A New Normal
by Mrs.Williamthebloody
Summary: Finally, her focus turned to the boy in the corner of the room. Their eyes locked.    "Please," she croaked, speaking directly to him. "Help me."
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: I Wanna Be More Than My Problems

Seventeen years.

It had taken seventeen years for Lord Voldemort to be defeated after that fateful night at the Potter family home.

He had lived 11 years of his life with the possibility of the Dark Lord's return, the uncertainty of whether he even still existed. And then it finally happened, the first sighting, and _he_ was back. It had taken the Dark Lord seven years to complete _his_ plans to infiltrate the Ministry and take over Hogwarts, but _he_ succeeded (or so _he_ was lead to believe) on both accounts and only one last step remained…Harry Potter.

There had been times when Harry had had his guard down long enough for one of Voldemort's loyal followers to take him out with a quick _Avada Kedavra_ spell, he himself had had many opportunities, but the Dark Lord had made it abundantly clear that Harry belonged to _him_ and it was _he_ who would execute the final blow.

But in the end, it wasn't Voldemort who had triumphed. No, "good" had once again defeated "evil" and much of the world celebrated, himself included, though no one would have expected it and he would never let anyone see how relieved he truly was about the outcome of the war.

When the immediate celebration came to an end, the wizarding world was left struggling to repair itself. Families had been broken, loved ones had died, homes and businesses were destroyed. It would be a long while before things went back to the way they were.

It was decided that the children needed stability back in their lives and so they set to work repairing Hogwarts to its original glory. The process wasn't easy, magical precautions were taken to ensure that all residual dark magic was cast out and protection charms were cast in the very structure of the building. It took time but the school now stood tall with confidence, it's halls safer than before.

Changes had been made not only to the layout of the school, but also to its long-standing traditions. The most obvious of which was the abolishment of the houses of its four original founders. It was agreed that separating students and pitting them against each other as they vied for the House Cup only lead to resentment and prejudice, therefore, they would stand no longer. From now on students would be separated by age and gender. The Ravenclaw house had been turned into the first and second year dormitories, the third and fourth years were to reside where the Hufflepuff house had once stood, the fifth and sixth years would inhabit Gryffindor, and the seventh years would be bunking in Slytherin.

The houses held the same basic structure as before: a common room on the first floor as well as boys' dormitories upstairs and down to the right, and girls' upstairs and down to the left. The doors would no longer require passwords, allowing boys and girls of every age to mingle together in their common rooms. The sleeping quarters, on the other hand, would now require a password, allowing all students the privacy they deserved. All four living areas were decorated in red, gold, yellow, black, blue, bronze, green, and silver in order to include all of the original house colours.

The house cup was placed in the school entrance as a tribute to its founders, but would no longer be awarded at the end of the year. It would be difficult to adjust to the new conditions, but most understood the reasoning behind the changes, and those who voted against them had been outnumbered three to one.

The end of the previous year had been disrupted and no one had been able to fully complete the year; it was decided that marks would be administered based on how well students had been doing up until the battle and most would be entering into their properly scheduled year. A few students who, like himself, had been more involved in the war still had a full year to catch up on.

Students were currently making their way to the train station, the reconstruction having pushed them only one week behind schedule. Classes would start the next morning, and as the young wizards were re-adjusting to school life, safely stowed away at Hogwarts, their parents would slowly begin to rebuild their lives.

His family life, however, was beyond repair. Both of his parents had been sentenced to Azkaban a week after the Dark Lord had fallen and he had spent the past couple of months alone in his home. Many of the surviving Death Eaters had gone into hiding hoping to avoid their sentencing, but throughout the summer most had been caught and nearly eighty-five percent of Voldemort's followers were now locked away in Azkaban. His parents had made the decision to stick around and face their punishments and because of this had lesser sentences. It would be years before they would return to him, but they would one day return.

He was surprised to learn that he would be spared from any time in Azkaban as it was concluded that his actions had been out of pure unfiltered fear for his life and the lives of his family. When the battle was over his soul was still intact, his hands never stained with the blood of another.

He was to return to Hogwarts. He repressed the fear that presented itself every time he thought of this. He should be done with school, but his year spent working for the Dark Lord had put him behind most of his classmates and he would be returning alone, not one ally to his name. Crabbe was gone and Goyle had yet to regain consciousness after the incident in the room of requirement. All other Slytherins in his year had graduated and he had never put any effort into befriending those in lower grades.

The year would be utter hell, he was sure of it; the new rules would force him to see Potter and his friends on a daily basis. They would be living in the same dormitory and his original plan to lay low, keep his head down and avoid everyone until year's end was ruined. Slowly he dragged himself to the entrance of Platform 9 ¾ and made his way through the barrier, his mind and body instantly filling with dread.

In hopes of avoiding any unnecessary confrontation with his classmates, he had taken his time to get there, ensuring that he would be one of the last to board the train. Silently, he closed his eyes, rolled his neck, took a deep breath, and stepped onto the train. Luckily, he was able to find an empty compartment in one of the smaller cars. He placed his possessions in the overhead shelf with ease and sat down, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible. The trip to Hogwarts was going to be long, the same as it was every year. He wished more than anything that he could simply apparate straight into his quarters, but as per usual, apparating in and out of Hogwarts was physically impossible.

The train had yet to start moving and he was beginning to get impatient. His grey eyes swept over the walls of the compartment and his hands made their way into the pocket of his dark grey hooded pull-over. As his skin slid over the soft fabric his tired eyes fluttered shut. A few months ago the feel of this obviously Muggle material had been foreign to him, but at this moment it was one of the few things in his life that helped to make him feel at ease. He hadn't been able to bring himself to put on his robes since his parents' trial. When their sentences were declared, it took everything he had not to make a scene right there in the courtroom, but he had been taught to never show weakness, and displaying his emotions for all to see was the worst kind of weakness. So rather than lashing out, his features smoothly fell into a look of indifference and he silently made his way to the exit. Once outside the courtroom he went directly to the nearest fireplace and made his way home. He had known that it wouldn't take long for his parents' fates to become common knowledge, and he hadn't wanted to be around for the victory dances he had been sure would ensure. So instead of dealing with whatever was to come he changed out of his robes and into the only set of Muggle clothes he had: a pair of dark fitted jeans, a black v-neck t-shirt, and an oversized dark grey pull-over. Then, he did something he had never done before—he apparated into the alley next to the Leaky Cauldron and stepped out into the busy streets of Muggle London.

He wandered around for what seemed like hours before stopping in front of a small café. Looking up at the menu, he found he was unfamiliar with many of the items offered And then he remembered that he wasn't in possession of any Muggle money. Quickly he made his way to the toilets and removed a handful of galleons, sickles, and knuts from his pocket. He pulled out his wand, muttered _Viaticus Verto_ and watched as his wizard money instantly transformed into British pounds.

After purchasing a cup of black coffee, he sat in a secluded booth at the back of the establishment. It was oddly comforting to be in a world where no one knew him, a world where his last name was just a last name, and his family life was known only to him. He sat and drank and watched the Muggles enter and exit the small café. When he had finished his fourth cup, he made his way out and reluctantly apparated home.

His first night alone in the manor was one of the worst nights of his life. He tossed and turned and barely slept, and when sleep did finally overtake him he dreamt of the horrors of the war and awoke the next morning shaking and covered in sweat. He tried to busy himself around the house, but it was useless. Nothing could distract him from replaying the terrifying nightmare over and over again. So once again, he dressed in his Muggle clothes and made his way to that same café. He wasn't sure how it had happened, but for the next few months every day he made his way to that café, his café. It was the only place he could completely escape from his life. He spent his days warily testing out everything on the menu and watching the constant flow of Muggles. He had always been told that Muggles were an inferior race, that they were far beneath even filthy _Mudbloods_, but the longer he observed them the more he realized just how wrong they had been. Yes, they were at a disadvantage, things didn't come as easy to them as they did to Wizards, but they managed. They came up with technologies that allowed them to communicate with each other much quicker than owls; they came up with a way to write that was fast and convenient and never caused a mess; and they came up with ways to get around town that were slower than brooms, but much faster than walking. He was amazed that any of these contraptions had ever been invented and that they worked and worked well. Although he'd never want to switch places, never want to be a Muggle, he was growing to respect them and he was infinitely grateful for the peace and quiet their world had provided him.

The train lurched forward roughly and he was pulled from his unexpected slumber. His eyes remained shut, but he heard slightly muffled, unwelcomed voices through his thick grey hood. He knew right away that his compartment was no longer empty and as the unknown group continued to talk, the feeling of dread overtook him once more. He realized quickly that the voices he was hearing were familiar, far too familiar. They didn't seem to realize with whom they were sharing the compartment. Had they known, he probably would have been jerked from his sleep much earlier and forced to endure their inevitable shouts of anger and hate. Luckily, his hood was shielding his face and his attire was one that they'd never expect of him, so he squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that they would continue to ignore him.

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A/N: Okay, so my plan was to write the entire story before posting anything…that was the plan (I do have a good chunk written) but I've come to a bit of block and after much consideration I have decided to post what I have so far and hope that your comments and ideas help to unstick my brain. So please, I encourage all of you to put in your ideas as the story goes on and if anything seems to fit well I'll probably try to work it in…or if you find the story to be utter crap then I'll just move on with my life, lol. Either way I'd love to hear from all of you. This is a bit different for me, I've never written a full length Harry Potter story, so I guess we'll see how it goes.

Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Before I start I just wanted to thank my Betas for reviewing and proofing both this chapter and the previous chapter and all of the chapters to come.

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Chapter 2: The Girl Who Broke in Two

She was finally free to lead a normal life, free to live without the fear and paranoia that had dominated the past seven years. The war was over. She had made it through and her side had come out on top. People had died, people that she was close to, but at least their deaths hadn't been in vain; every one of them had gone down in battle. They had gone out heroes, fighting to protect the lives of others.

While the Wizarding world celebrated, she made her way home. Her house was empty, but she should have expected as much. Her parents were still in Australia, completely unaware of the fact that they had a daughter. She made her way into her bedroom and immediately broke down. It had been nearly a year since she'd had a proper night's sleep. Her body and mind had been through more than she'd ever expected and she just couldn't take anymore. She fell to the floor, tears pouring down her battle worn face. She pulled her knees to her chest and she cried for those she had lost, for those who had lost, for the children who would never know their parents, for the parents who had lost their children, she cried for everything and everyone, and finally, for herself, for her loss of childhood, for her loss of innocence.

She had never wanted to be a kid, not really. She was always looking to the future, always trying to learn as much as she could so that one day she'd have all the knowledge she needed to become the best wizard and best adult she could be. She had wished many times that she could just skip to the point when she was comfortably in a career, married, and on her way to having children. But now, now she wished that she could have her childhood back; she wished that she hadn't had to grow up so fast. She wished that she had been allowed to be selfish sometimes, wished that the weight of the world hadn't always been on her shoulders.

She was eleven when she first faced true evil and from that moment on she, along with her two best friends, had stopped thinking about themselves and started protecting the lives of others. And she'd done it. She'd done it without thinking twice about it. She could have been selfish; she could have walked away but that wasn't the type of person she was. She was stronger than that, braver then that—hell she was more stubborn than that.

She was good at helping, good at researching, and good at working through problems. And she loved it. She loved that she had made a difference in the world, that she had been part of something bigger than herself and that she had fought for her beliefs—fought and won. The tears began to subside as she realized that as much as she hurt, as much as the last year had been the hardest year of her life, as much as she'd lost, she wouldn't have it any other way. Sure, if she could, she would have saved those who hadn't been as fortunate as her, but in the end, she knew that she couldn't save everyone, she knew that all wars had casualties, and she knew that she was just one girl. She'd grieve, everyone would, but slowly they'd all come to terms with what had happened. They'd never forget but they'd learn to accept it and move on.

The first few weeks following the war had been the hardest. There were so many people to bury, so many funerals to attend. And although they were all hard, Fred's funeral was by far the hardest. She spent the whole time glued to Ron's side. He needed her, and she was happy to be there for him. Neither of them spoke during the ceremony. He held her hand tightly and didn't let go until Fred was safely in the ground. It was weeks before she could let Ron out of her sight. The changes in him scared her and she was worried as to what might happen if she left him alone for too long.

She filled her time taking care of everyone around her; it was the best way to keep her mind and her hands busy. When everyone seemed to have settled into their post-war lives, she flew to Australia and found her parents. She reversed the memory charm she had placed on them and tried to bring them home. They were angry with her, as she had expected them to be, but she explained and they understood why she had done it. She was trying to protect them. Eventually, they came to terms with what she had done, but they didn't want to return. She stayed with them in Australia for weeks trying to convince them to come back to England with her, but their lives were there now. She was, of course, welcome to stay with them, they wanted her to move there, but school was starting in a few weeks and she didn't see the point in moving when she'd just have to leave again. So she left with a heavy heart and prepared for her return to Hogwarts.

She couldn't imagine being back at school, couldn't imagine a life where her greatest worry was doing well on her N.E.W.T.s. But she looked forward to it; she looked forward to getting back into the world of academia and being able to put her full attention on her studies.

She packed her things and made her way to the train; she was running late, but she knew she'd be there in time. When she arrived, Ron was waiting for her and together they boarded the train. Harry would be missing a day or two of classes in order to settle his godchild, Teddy, in at the Burrow, and Ginny had opted to stay with him, much to Mrs. Weasley's dismay. The compartments were nearly all full, so when she spotted one containing a single person she quickly pulled Ron into it and began to deposit her things in the overhead shelf. She didn't recognize the person she sat across from. The hood of his Muggle sweatshirt covered his head and a shadow was cast across his face. She would have greeted him, but he appeared to be sleeping so she simply settled in and listened as Ron began to tell her what had been happening at the Burrow before he had left.

"...I half expected her to shove Ginny in my trunk and make me smuggle her to Hogwarts. I don't know why she needs to stay behind with Harry anyways. How could she possibly be of any help in that situation?"

As she continued listening to Ron rant about Ginny getting to miss the beginning of school, her eyes drifted to the sleeping boy next to him. She hadn't slept well in what felt like weeks, and she envied his ability to sleep through Ron's rather loud complaints. Suddenly, her body sprang forward as the train made its surprisingly rough departure.

"Blimey, not exactly what I'd call a smooth take off," Ron commented.

She nodded her head in agreement and slid herself back into her original position.

"Where was I...?" Ron began again, "Oh yeah, why does she think she deserves special treatment? It's not like he's _her_ baby..."

She tried to focus on Ron, but he was beginning to get repetitive and her gaze shifted once more to their unidentified travel partner. Her eyes swept over his newly visible face and she gasped loudly as shock set upon her features.

Draco Malfoy heard her gasp and began to panic. Damn the train for shifting his face into view. He tried to keep his breathing steady, not sure how she would proceed.

"Hermione...Hermione...HERMIONE," he heard Ron Weasley say. "Are you even listening to me?"

Draco rolled his eyes beneath his lids. He'd been trying to not listen to Weasley's complains and wasn't surprised that Granger hadn't been able to even pretend to be interested. Suddenly, the room seemed deafeningly quiet; not being able to see what was going on was infinitely frustrating.

"Malfoy," he heard the boy next to him practically growl.

He'd been revealed. Thinking it over for a split second, Draco decided to continue pretending to sleep. He listened intently, keeping his breathing as steady as he could, under the circumstances. The seat shifted and he knew that Weasley had gotten up. There was a slight scuffle and a second later he heard and felt a heavy thud as the boy returned to his seat.

"No," Draco heard Granger say in an irritated whisper. "This isn't the time or the place."

"Isn't the _time_ or the _place? _Isn't the _TIME_ or the _PLACE_?" Weasley repeated loudly. "Then when and where exactly would the _time_ and the _place BE_?

He heard Hermione sigh, "I don't want to sit here and listen to the two of you fighting; I don't need that right now. The train ride has barely started, everywhere else is full, and we're all stuck in here until we get to Hogwarts."

"Don't want to listen to the two of _us_ fighting? The two of _US_?" Ron practically screamed.

"Stop. Repeating. Everything. I. Say." she responded, more irritated than before.

"And you? You wouldn't be involved in the fighting? After what happened at _his_ house? After what _his_ family did to you?"

Draco cringed at the boy's words, the memory of that night at the manor flashing through his mind.

"Just stop," Hermione said defiantly. "I will not continue to have this conversation with you."

The compartment grew silent, the boy next to him sat completely still. Neither one said a word and Draco was quite sure a staring match, or more likely a glaring match, had ensued. The seat stirred once more and with a loud slam he knew that the Weasel had up and left. He heard Granger shift as she began to take deep calming breaths.

With Weasley gone, he started to relax. Sure, he would have rather had the witch leave as well, but after their discussion he was quite certain that she would not disturb him.

* * *

A/N: Okay guys, we're all done with the background-ish information so it should get a bit more exciting from here on out. Thank you to everyone for reading and to those of you who took the time to review. The next chapter should be up in about a week, until then, let me know what you think! If you don't have an account and want to know when I've updated I usually post the link on Twitter when each chapter comes up, so if you want to be updated or if you're just bored and want to listen to me ramble feel free to add me, the link is in my profile. Again, suggestions are !


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: I've Got to Rest These Eyes

Hermione tried to ignore the sleeping boy. She began staring out the window to pass the time, but she had seen these sights many times before and they no longer held her interest. Tentatively, she shifted her eyes to look at Draco Malfoy. She took in his outfit, a charcoal sweatshirt and dark blue jeans. She was surprised to see him looking so casual. She was used to seeing him in his robes or school uniform and the few times that she had noticed him out of his robes he'd always been wearing the same black suit.

His hands were resting in the pocket of his pull over, his head leaning straight back against the seat. Her eyes skimmed over his face. His skin seemed even paler than usual, his complexion causing the deep purple bags around his eyes to stand out. The bags around his eyes reminded her of the ones that had taken up permanent residence below her own since the end of the war. No one would know, however, as after a week of people telling her she looked tired and needed sleep she had resorted to a simple glamour to cover them up.

Her mind seemed to be fighting off sleep since Voldemort's defeat. It had taken days after the war for her to even get a moment's worth of shut eye and since then, her mind had only allowed her body around four hours of restless, nightmare-ridden sleep a night. She tried to use her extra time as constructively as possible, taking over kitchen duties at the Burrow when Mrs. Weasley couldn't bring herself to get up in the morning, reading and re-reading her seventh year books while the others slept, and making sure that Ron didn't let the grief of losing his brother and his friends consume him.

Her thoughts strayed to Ron. Would he be coming back? She didn't know. On their way in she'd noticed a few empty spots in other compartments and she began to wonder if he'd made his way to one of those.

She sighed softly before standing up and reaching for her bag; if Ron wasn't coming back then she would just read until the train reached Hogwarts. She tugged on it lightly, only to find it was stuck beneath Ron's bag. She started pulling harder. It released suddenly, causing her to stumble backwards, trip over her own feet, and fall onto Malfoy.

She struggled to pick herself up quickly before looking at him. She was met with the familiar Malfoy glare as she fell back into her seat, startled.

"I'm sorry," she said tentatively.

He snarled at her as he pulled off his hood, revealing a mess of blond hair.

"Clumsy as ever aren't we Granger," Draco practically hissed before breaking eye contact.

They both sat silently for a while, the room drenched in awkward tension. Slowly, she reached down for her bag, which was now slumped over on the floor, and pulled out her seventh year Potions textbook. She removed her place marker and was about to start reading when the door to the compartment opened to reveal a slightly calmer Ron. Her eyes instantly flicked over to Malfoy, she was worried that his newly awakened state would drive Ron back to being angry. She was surprised to find his head turned toward the window and his eyes snapped shut. She gazed at him curiously for a moment before turning her attention back to her redheaded friend.

"And where exactly have _you_ been?" she asked, her irritation from their earlier conversation and his disappearance evident in her voice.

"The toilets," he stated matter-of-factly.

She looked at him in disbelief; it had been nearly an hour since he'd up and left.

"Oh the toilets. Of course," she responded sarcastically. "Fall in did you?"

Ron just stared at her blankly, refusing to offer up another explanation. From the corner of her eye she could have sworn the seemingly sleeping boy's face had twitched with amusement.

She turned her attention back to her book, deciding to ignore the source of her irritation. After several minutes had passed, she could feel Ron's eyes on her. Finding it difficult to concentrate, she raised her head to look at him.

"What now?" she asked sharply.

"Oh, come off it Hermione," he responded. "Being a bit stubborn, aren't you?"

She was being stubborn and she knew it. He had returned in a presumably calm mood and she had been the one who couldn't get passed her earlier annoyance. Yes, she was being stubborn, but nothing irritated her more than having other people point it out to her.

Glaring at him, she bit her tongue and returned to her textbook. The rest of the train ride was spent in complete silence. She'd noticed Draco's breathing become slow and even shortly after Ron's reappearance and once again she envied his ability to sleep at a moments notice. As the train came to a stop, Ron got up quickly grabbed his things and stomped off the train. She rolled her eyes, placed her book into her bag, and made her way to the door. On her way out she realized that Malfoy had yet to stir, so she stepped towards him and shook his arm. He jolted awake and looked at her, alarmed.

"We've arrived," she said before exiting the compartment, leaving him to gather his belongings.

Draco waited a few minutes, hoping to miss the carriages, before collecting his bag and making his way off the train. Just as he expected, the last of the carriages had departed and he was forced to walk alone to the entrance of Hogwarts. Most people enjoyed the scenic ride to the school because it allowed them to catch up with their friends, but he would rather walk than get stuck in a carriage with people he didn't like and who didn't like him. Most people saw him as an ex-Death Eater and were cold towards him because of it and those who had been on the Dark Lord's side considered him a traitor because his mother had, in the end, lied about Harry Potter being dead, allowing the boy the perfect chance to bring down Voldemort once and for all.

He took his time walking slowly down the dimly lit path; he wanted to be late enough to miss most of the homecoming feast, but early enough as not to get locked out. Upon his arrival at the gate, he was greeted by a rather annoyed Professor Flitwick, who immediately asked him to state his name and promptly granted him entry into the school.

He made his way to the doors of the Great Hall and pushed them open as quietly as possible, hoping to avoid drawing attention to himself. Quickly, he checked over the four tables, each seemed to be divided by age, so he slipped over to the table comprised mostly of seventh years and took a seat closest to the doors. Looking at the table, he was glad to see everyone was already on dessert.

He had missed Headmistress McGonagall's opening remarks as well as the teacher introductions. Soon, they would all be heading to their houses and preparing themselves for their first official day of classes. He had received his class schedule by owl mid-summer and was disappointed to see that most of his days would be rather full; he was, however, grateful for the two study breaks he had been granted during second period on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

As everyone was finishing up their desserts, the Headmistress stepped up to the podium and began to speak.

"I hope you all enjoyed this year's start of term banquet." She paused for a moment, allowing the students to clap and cheer. "Now would normally be the time when I would ask that your Head Boy and Head Girl lead the first years to their house. However, as their arrivals have been delayed, I will ask that Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley take their place. Second years, you are welcome to follow along should you be ready to take your leave of the Great Hall. Everyone else, I would ask that you finish up and begin making your way to your houses within the next fifteen minutes. You are dismissed."

He watched as his travel partners made their way to the first and second year table. The students stood quickly and began to follow them out of the Great Hall. As soon as they were all cleared out he made his way to the exit and headed down the corridor to the ex-Slytherin house. He took comfort in the fact that he would be staying in the same house where he had spent his previous six years at Hogwarts. It had been his home away from home; in some ways, it had felt even more like a home than Malfoy Manor ever had.

As Draco made his way down the corridor he noticed a group of people hovering near the seventh year house entrance. They were talking quietly amongst themselves and didn't seem to have noticed his presence. He kept his eyes on the ground and shifted his steps to the right, preparing to go around them. He was barely a foot from the portrait when he collided with something solid. When Draco raised his eyes, he was met with the dark glare of his former friend, Blaise Zambini. He took a step back, surprised to see the boy back at Hogwarts.

"Where d'you think you're going Malfoy?" Blaise said calmly.

His gaze shifted, past the tall boy, to the group of people who were now lined up side by side completely blocking his way. He fitted his face with a glare and looked each one directly in the eyes. His fear grew with every new face. He had never paid much attention to his past housemates, but each of these people were unmistakably Slytherin.

"To my room," he responded coolly. "Now, if you wouldn't mind stepping aside…"

He shifted to the left in a futile attempt to go around Blaise. Blaise followed his movements and was immediately back in his face.

"I don't think so," Blaise began icily. "You see Malfoy, we'd like to have a word with you."

The mob behind Blaise grunted in agreement. Managing to keep his growing fear under control, Draco looked the dark boy dead in the eyes, crossed his arms, and raised an eyebrow.

"Go on then, what is it you so desperately need to discuss with me?"

Blaise took a step forward, his face barely an inch away from Draco's.

"We think you need to be taught a lesson," the dark haired boy said menacingly.

Draco stood straight, defiantly, and let out a small chuckle.

"And what exactly do you all think you can teach me?" he said arrogantly.

"Easy," Blaise started, "we're going to teach you what happens to sniveling, two-faced, cowardly traitors."

The two boys stared each other down for a moment before stepping back and simultaneously drawing their wands. At the sight of his wand, the crowd behind Blaise began to draw theirs. He kept his wand steady; keeping it pointed at Blaise, but did not utter a spell.

"Put your wands down," Blaise bellowed to his partners in crime. "This is my fight."

The boys began slowly circling each other. Draco had no intention of doing anything other than defending himself, so he waited anxiously for Blaise to make the first move. Blaise continued to glare at him, but didn't seem prepared to make the first move.

"Haven't got the stomach, have you Zambini? Go on, do your worst," he goaded.

"Still an arrogant fool, outnumber ten to one and just begging to get your ass kicked," Blaise spat back.

"I wouldn't have to beg if you would just get it over with," he said back calmly, lowering his wand. "Your gold digging, whore of a mother is scarier than you. At least she has the bollocks to kill the people she has no use for."

"_Stupify,_" Blaise screamed immediately.

Draco's wand may have been lowered, but he managed to get it back up just in time.

"_Protego_," he countered smoothly.

"_Incarcerous,_" Blaise retorted quickly.

"_Protego,_" he said, once again blocking Blaise's spell with little effort.

Draco smirked at his opponent, taking a step forward. He hadn't used much magic since the beginning of the summer and it felt good to know he hadn't lost any of his skills.

"Are you finished yet?"

He knew that further angering Blaise wasn't in his best interest, but he wasn't about to back down.

"_Densaugeo_," Blaise said through clenched teeth.

He was able to block the spell wordlessly.

"So that's what 'traitors' get then? Big teeth?" he said, nearly laughing.

Blaise was now seething with anger, his wand shaking in his hand.

"_Expelliarmus,_" Draco said softly and watched as the impact of the spell not only caused the dark boy's wand to fly from his hand, but also knock him to the ground.

"I may be a 'traitor' Zambini, but I always have been, and always will be, a better wizard than you could ever dream of being," he said, giving the boy one last look before walking past him.

The pack of people behind Blaise continued to hold their stance.

"_Patefacio a semita_," he muttered causing the crowd to stumble to either side, opening a clear path to the house portrait.

As he reached the entrance, the portrait swung open immediately, granting him access. It felt odd and a little unsettling not needing a password, but in this very moment he was grateful for it. Once inside he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Yes, he had stayed calm and collected in the face of his new enemies, but he wasn't deluded enough not to realize that the situation could have ended horribly for him. He let the air out of his lungs and his nerves began to calm.

He opened his eyes and stepped further into the room. He was immediately disappointed to see that the common room he was standing in bore no resemblance to the Slytherin common room he was so used it. It was no longer dark and decorated in silver and green; the sculls that had once lined the walls were gone and the sinister feel the room previously held had disappeared. The room was now decorated in all the house colors and seemed to be lit as though by the setting sun, despite its lack of windows due to the room's location beneath the lake. The fire in the fireplace was burning natural orange flames rather than the enchanted green flames it had once produced, and above the mantle were four proud portraits, one for each of the Hogwarts founders.

He sighed before making his way to the boys' dorms in search of his room. If he was lucky he wouldn't have to share. He had been sent his room password along with his class schedule, and as he approached his new residence, he uttered "C_aput Capitis Specialis,_" and the door opened. It was not the simplest of passwords, but at least he could be assured no one would figure it out. Pushing the door open further, he saw two sets of trunks. He would in fact be sharing the room.

He got ready for bed quickly and when he returned to his room, he found a familiar, formerly Gryffindor boy unpacking his things on the opposite side of the room. He took a deep breath and ventured further into his side of the room. As he set his things in the top draw of his dresser, the other boy turned to face him. Neville Longbottom. Draco looked at Neville, whose frightened expression turned to one of concentration as the boy took a step forward and extended his hand.

"Malfoy," the awkward boy said holding his hand straight out.

Draco's face turned into a sneer without a thought, but he considered the situation for a moment. He didn't want friends. He would make it through this year alone and when graduation came he'd have no attachments and would be able to move on freely. He didn't want friends, but if he was going to be living with this boy for the remainder of his stay at Hogwarts, it would be better if the two were at the very least civil towards each other.

"Longbottom," he said extending his own hand and shaking the Gryffindor's surprisingly steady one.

Letting go, he gave a slight nod, made his way into bed and extinguished his bedside lantern. Yes, he'd be civil, but that didn't mean he had any desire to converse with the boy.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys, this story doesn't seem to be holding much interest so I'm going to give it another chapter or two and if the readership doesn't pick up I'll most likely discontinue it. If that happens, I'm very sorry to any of you who actually do have an invested interest in it. Thanks.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

The room looked very similar to her previous room in Gryffindor. The only difference seemed to be its size. While the dimensions of the room were the same, the number of beds was not and it therefore made the room seem much larger. Hermione had expected the room to hold two beds, this room, however, only held one. She was surprised that she would not be rooming with anyone; it might have been nice to have Ginny or Luna as a roommate. As she was the only girl who should have already graduated and was therefore a year older than most of her housemates, she suspected Professor McGonagall had purposely assigned her a single room.

She walked further into her room and collapsed onto her bed. She placed her hands across her stomach, took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. It had been a long day. There had been so many people who wanted to congratulate and thank her for her efforts in the war. So many people who wanted to hear more, in detail. So many people who just wouldn't leave her alone. That part of her life was over and all she wanted to do now was move on, she just wished everyone else would let her.

As she continued to lie on the bed, her eyelids grew heavy. She had yet to change out of her school things, much less brush her teeth, but she couldn't seem to will herself to get up. She closed her eyes and let her arms fall to her sides. Her day had been long and it took mere moments for sleep to overtake her.

_Her mind was groggy, slightly clouded. Where was she? Her eyes darted around the large room…dark purple walls lined with portraits, marble fireplace…her eyes grew wide with panic and she held her breath, looking towards the ceiling…crystal chandelier. No. This couldn't be. She closed her eyes and shook her head willing the movement to erase the room around her._

_Her breath caught in her throat the moment she opened her eyes. The once empty room was now filled with people. She nervously looked at each one, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Fenrir Greyback, Scabior and Draco Malfoy. _

"_It's her isn't it? The Mudblood?" _

_Her hearing was distorted, as though she was under water, but there was no mistaking the drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy._

"_Draco, come here, have a look." _

_Her eyes moved away from Lucius to the young boy in the far corner of the room. He didn't appear to have moved._

"_Now Draco," Lucius shouted impatiently. _

_She watched as Draco slowly made his way over to her. Although her vision was distorted, he was close enough for her to make out his features. He seemed nervous and afraid, she watched as his eyes traveled over her, not once meeting her own._

"_Well?" Lucius said anxiously._

"_I, I don't…maybe." His gaze moved from her face and up to his father who gave him a pointed angry glare._

"_I think," he started, "yeah, okay, y-y-yeah, that's her."_

_She watched as he stumbled and made his way to the back corner of the room. Seconds later a door opened and her eyes darted to it. Her fear swelled to the highest degree as Bellatrix Lastrange came into view. She automatically stepped back, trying to create as much distance between Bellatrix and herself as possible, but instantly felt her back pressed against the wall. Her eyes darted around looking for an escape route that did not exist; she was surrounded. It was only then that she realized her friends were nowhere to be seen. Her mouth went dry and her limbs began to shake, but she was relieved at their absence. They weren't there…they were safe._

_She heard muffled voices. Vaguely aware that her captors were in a hurried discussion, she tried to focus on what they were saying but her mind was too preoccupied with what would come next to make out their words. The discussion stopped abruptly and all eyes were suddenly on her. Her breath hitched and she was frozen with fear as a deranged smiling Bellatrix Lestrange stepped towards her, wand in hand._

_She stayed perfectly still, not breathing, hoping in vain that she would simply disappear. The woman in front of her let out a high pitched cackle before tilting her head to one side and raising her wand._

"_Crucio," the Death Eater bellowed._

_Her knees went weak from the pain and she nearly fell to the ground, but Bellatrix forced her into the air. She was floating a couple feet off the ground, her eyes rolled back into her head. Every part of her felt like it was on fire, like her blood was boiling beneath her skin. She couldn't see. She couldn't hear. There was nothing but pain. A constant stream of high-pitched screaming exploded from her mouth involuntarily. _

_She didn't know how long this lasted; it could have been minutes or even hours for all she knew. The pain continued, but her screaming finally stopped. Her throat was raw, her mouth was open as if she was still screaming but no sound was coming out. Her face was hot and wet, covered with tears she hadn't realized were falling. The room was silent and everything was black. Suddenly, from a distance, she heard a muffled voice. She struggled to concentrate through the constant pain. She heard the voice again. She tried once more to focus on the voice; it was quiet, barely louder than a whisper._

"_Hermione."_

_She continued to listen._

"_Hermione."_

_There it was again, this time louder. Her name was being called over and over again, each cry louder than the next. She knew that voice. No, it couldn't be. They weren't there; she was alone. _

"_Hermione."_

_She whimpered, there was no doubt it her mind…Ron. He was in the cellar, just like before, she was sure of it. When it was just her it was okay, at least then they were safe. But now… _

_She struggled through the pain to open her eyes. She looked from face to face searching for someone to help her. Finally, her focus turned to the boy in the corner of the room. Their eyes locked._

"_Please," she croaked, speaking directly to him. "Please."_

"_HERMIONE!"_

She jerked up in bed, her breathing shallow and her heartbeat fast. Her body was damp, a mixture of sweat and tears.

"Hermione," her head turned to the voice instantly.

Professor McGonagall.

Her eyes darted quickly around the room, taking in every surface. She was at school, in her room. It was a dream…just a dream. Her breathing began to steady as she turned her gaze back to the older woman.

"Headmistress," she tried to say, but the word came out in barely a whisper. Her voice was rough and her throat was sore.

She brought her hand up to her throat and swallowed. The action caused pain and she winced. Her eyes grew wide with realization. The screaming hadn't only been in her dream.

McGonagall's expression showed a mixture of concern and fear.

"Hermione, dear," the professor started, but seemed to be at a loss for words.

"It's alright, I'm alright," she responded, her voice rough, but steady. "It was just a bad dream."

The elderly woman raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Your friends heard you screaming, they tried to get it, but without your password they couldn't, so they came to get me. They thought you were being attacked."

"Really Professor, everything is fine," Hermione said, forcing herself to smile.

"That may be so Miss Granger, but you don't have to go through this alone. I can't be positive as to what you were dreaming about, but I have a pretty good idea," she said softly, pausing for a moment. "The war was hard on all of us, but I can't begin to imagine what you went through. It would be perfectly understandable, expected even, if you were having difficultly…adjusting."

"I appreciate your concern Professor, I really do. But I'm…adjusting just fine. You don't have to worry about me."

The Headmistress continued to look at her softly before hesitantly straightening herself out.

"Alright dear, well you try to get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow. If there's anything you need just come and wake me."

"Thank you, Professor."

She watched the Headmistress leave before collapsing back onto her bed.

* * *

There was so much screaming. Even now, lying awake in bed, he could hear it as clear as the day it had happened. The picture in his mind was so vivid: Hermione Granger, raised in the air in the drawing room at Malfoy Manor, writhing in pain. He shuddered at the memory and sat up checking over his shoulder for the time. 5:45am. His alarm wasn't set to go off for another hour, but he was sure there was no chance of falling back asleep, so he quietly gathered his things and made his way to the washroom.

He took a moment to splash cold water over his face before preparing himself for the day. When he returned to his room Neville was just getting up. The boy looked up at him from his position on the bed and gave him a slight nod. Draco returned it, put his things away and left once more.

It was still rather early, not even seven yet, but he decided to make his way to the Great Hall slowly, hoping to arrive just as breakfast was starting.

He emerged from the portrait hole cautiously. Although he had walked this particular corridor many times before, the previous night's encounter had reminded him that he needed to be on guard at all times. He scanned the length of the hall and found that it was completely empty.

He arrived at the Great Hall just in time to see the first round of food appearing on the tables. Taking the same seat he had held the night before, he placed a couple of pieces of toast and a few sausages onto his plate. The room was fairly empty, the table he was at only held three other people and by glancing around he was able to determine that the entire room held a mere fifteen students and only one teacher.

His gaze turned to the entrance of the Great Hall as Hermione Granger walked in. He watched her feet as she walked towards the seventh year table; slowly he allowed his eyes to make their way up to her face. She looked tired, but not excessively so, her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, held up by ribbon and she was carrying numerous books.

She hadn't seemed to notice his presence and for that he was grateful, but as he continued his assessment of her, her eyes suddenly met his and he was unable to turn away.

Her strangled, desperate whisper from his dream rang out in his mind.

"_Please."_

He tried hopelessly to avert his gaze, but he was completely frozen and she appeared to be as well.

"_Please," _her voice rang out again.

She looked terrified, and he wished that their eye contact would cease, but neither seemed capable of looking away.

The sounds of the Great Hall had long disappeared and it was almost as though they were back in the drawing room at his home. She began to tremble before his eyes, as she had that night and just as he had then, he did nothing to help her.

Suddenly, he was snapped out of his trance as Headmaster McGonagall reached Hermione and quickly ushered out of the room. He stared at the spot where she had been standing, wondering if she would return, before standing up and making his way back to the dormitories.

* * *

A/N: Oooooooo…intrigue! Lol. Thank you so much to all of you who have been reading and a special thanks to everyone who has been reviewing! Seriously, you're reviews are really appreciated. I hope you liked this chapter and be sure to let me know what you thought! Thanks.


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